


Will you remember me?

by LovelyLittleGrim



Series: Forget me not [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Destiny, Fate, M/M, Multiple Lives, Rebirth, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:42:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6629941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLittleGrim/pseuds/LovelyLittleGrim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry remembered him just a little too late this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will you remember me?

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be part of a much bigger and more elaborate story.  
> (Also sorry, not beta'd)

Of course, Harry remembered him. How could Harry not remember him? He was everything Harry had ever wanted; would ever want. Harry's first love; his only love. So yes, Harry remembered him, it had just been a little too late this time. Harry's chance had come and gone without him knowing what it was he was turning down when the snarky young blond haired boy had stuck out his hand and Harry had refused to shake it. He was only eleven at the time; young and naive, and hadn't had the chance to wake up really. How was Harry supposed to know that he had let something so important go?

Harry hadn't started to remember him until just before the beginning of what was supposed to be his seventh year at Hogwarts. It had been the last week of his stay at Private Drive with the Dursley's, he had woken up entirely too warm, his limbs sticky with sweat, but he felt oddly content like he had been dreaming something happy. Flashes burned beneath his eyelids of soft lips ghosting over the back of his neck and warm hands on his hips, whispers of endearment mouthed behind the skin of his ear, too quietly said for him to recall in his conscious state. It continued on like this for days, weeks even. Growing and growing into clearer pictures as time progressed.

It was after his first few days of wearing the Horcrux necklace that Harry saw a completely clear picture of the mysterious person that made him feel so safe and so... Loved. He had jolted awake, terrified when he recognized those cool grey eyes and that impeccable platinum blond hair spread out on soft dark satin beneath him. It was the first time he had woken up terrified in a long time. The next day, Hermione had taken one look at his hunched shoulders and his horrified face and she had taken the Horcrux from him and slipped it over her own head. He wanted to tell her that, that wasn't it. He wanted to tell her about the dreams and the feelings, but she looked worn and scared just like him and he decided to keep it to himself. He would figure this out. He had too before he went crazy.

He dreamed again that night in perfect clarity and the night after that and the night after that one as well. With each dream, he remembered more and more. An ache began to grow within his chest, a burning want and a sad realization that this life . . . This life wouldn't end like all the others had. It wouldn't end with him and Draco together, there were too many factors and people keeping them apart. Harry strangely felt a little like crying every time he thought about it.

He found both solace and heartbreak in the dreams as they continued to show him more and more of the lives that he and Draco had lead together, of the great things they had done and the love they had shared. They were amazing together, they kept each other on their toes, challenged and protected each other. They had shared so many lives together, that it was bound to happen that one day there would come a life when they simply couldn't be, and it seemed that it was this one because, for the first time in their history of existences, they were not friend but foe. They were not lovers, but fighters, and they were fighting on the opposite sides.

Harry found himself wondering time and time again if Draco knew, if he had remembered yet, or was remembering now like he himself was. However, another part of Harry hurt as he remembered the smile die on a young Draco's face when Harry had refused his hand, maybe Draco, unlike Harry, had always known. Harry hoped with everything he had that it wasn't the latter.

 

Seeing Draco for the first time since remembering was like being punched in the stomach and electrocuted at the same time, it took his breath and hurt like nothing ever had before. Draco knelt before him and peered into his eyes and Harry wanted to tug him forward and kiss him with everything he had and reassure him that everything would be okay. Draco's grey eyes widened a fraction and Harry knew, Harry could see the love there, buried behind layers and layers of carefully structured walls for protection. Harry could see the minute tremble in Draco's lips and it made Harry want to apologize for making him wait so long, too long until it had become too late. Draco lied to Bellatrix and barely put up a fight when a moment arose for Harry and the others to escape. Harry wanted to take him with them, hated leaving him behind in such a dark place, but knew that as they were now it was impossible.

 

It was when Harry was walking into the forest to die that the realization truly sunk in that this would be the first time, in all of his existences that he would die without knowing what Draco's lips tasted like. As he marched to his death he thought of all the other Draco's he had known, all the tastes that sweet mouth had held and wished that he didn't have to miss out on knowing this one as well.

Dying had been easy, surprisingly familiar though the crossroad was new. He had never been given the option of returning before, he had always just sat down and waited for Draco when he had gone first, and when he had gone second Draco had always been standing there waiting for him before they walked into their new lives.

Taking his first breath again was strange, it felt like he had been hit in the lungs, but it wasn't hard to take in air. It only ached deep within. A curtain of hair tickled his face and he fought with his every instinct to not flinch. A voice whispered in his ear and at first, he could only take in Draco's name before he understood what was being asked.

Carefully, he nodded his head.

"The boy is dead." Called out Mrs. Malfoy, even though they both knew he was not.

He watched quietly as Draco walked away. The war was finally over. They had both survived and yet nothing had changed. They were both alive and well, and maybe that's all that mattered for this life. Maybe, next time things would be better. Maybe, next time they would be together . . . Maybe.

 

Harry had adamantly refused to become an Auror, he had, had enough excitement to last him the rest of this lifetime and maybe the next three which surprised nearly everyone he knew save for Hermione and oddly enough, Luna. Harry had owned a bookshop twice before, the job hadn't been exciting, but had been easy and enjoyable enough that Harry had decided that this life he would take up shop once again. It had been a little over seven months since he opened The Dragons Hoard when the door chimed and Harry looked up from his inventory list and froze, momentarily stunned by beautiful grey eyes and soft platinum hair swept back, thin lips pulled up in a kind – almost shy smile. Harry smiled back, big and stupidly goofy.

"Hi."

"Hi, back."

Maybe, this life still had a chance.


End file.
